


Oblivion

by Newtexe (ArcMages)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Follows the same path of scorch trials except newt's totally lost and confused, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcMages/pseuds/Newtexe
Summary: — ON HOLDIn which Newt is a simple messenger who's life is turned around when he is suddenly transported into a new life where he had escaped a maze and now, an organization called WICKED.





	Oblivion

In a city peacefully resting next to the water, the night had started to kick in. Civilians were in their cars or on the metro, on their way home to greet their families. Some were out grabbing dinner or preparing to live out their night life.

For one young man, at the age of 21, his day ended once his messenger bag was empty. Sometimes his job kept him up all throughout the night, sometimes it ended in the middle of the day after a couple of strolls around the main street. With this only one job, he worked himself the hardest he could. Never had he ever delivered a letter late, nor had he lost one.

It wasn't that he loved his job that much. He worked hard to get people to like him. To get a raise. To get recognition for the most he could do- deliver letters. Sometimes, on the job, someone would give him some carry-on food like a donut or a bag of chips. He savored those bites, they provided him with the energy he needed to continue on with the rest of his day.

The man didn't get paid much. But it sufficed enough to keep him and his best friend, who was almost like a brother to him, under a small roof and some dinner each day. But never, would he spend his money on something like snacks. And that's why, he learned to become friendly and approachable. Upon delivering a letter to a household, he would start a chat with the owner. Sometimes, that owner, would let him in on their trust and liking, then give him a piece of bread. And he savored it.

The young man listened to the heels of his buckled shoes tap onto the wooden lengths of the pier and the sound of running water surrounding him as he walked along near the edge. Everyday after completing the tasks, he took a quick visit here to take in a deep breath of the wind which blew through his fluffy blonde hair. It calmed his nerves and reminded him that his stresses were over. Then afterwards, he would head along home which was just a few blocks down.

He lived in a tight apartment with friend, Minho, who had asian descent and a lot more built than him. He locked the door behind him with a click. "I'm home," he called out.

"Oh Newt," Minho greeted him. "How was work?"

"The usual," Newt replied. He dug his hands into the messenger bag which had a bit of a bulge in it, "And a little surprise here... I hope you didn't have dinner yet!" He pulled out a wrapped, mini loaf of bread and tossed it to his friend.

Minho's eyes' widened as he caught it perfectly. The bread wasn't warm but it still had the hardness on the outside and squishiness it was supposed to have. "Thanks so much, man!"

Newt set his bag onto the single couch they had and threw his weight onto it. "Boy am I tried," he let out.

"Get some rest, bro," Minho said as he ripped a piece of bread and placed it in his mouth, savoring the plain flavor. He sat in front of the coffee table which had his homework spread out across it.

Newt closed his eyes and nodded. That, was exactly what he was going to do. The day was over for him. And tomorrow, it would happen all over again. Minho focused on college after working his ass off in high school to get a full scholarship. Because of this, he didn't put any of his education on hold so he was unemployed. Newt, on the other hand, jumped right into working after high school. And so, he ended up with being a full-time messenger for enough money to buy a cramped apartment which at least had a thermostat and working lights.

Life was fine this way for Newt. It was rather simple. Sure, sometimes he wished he could own a car or even a fancy watch. But all in all, he had the basic necessities for life under control. Minho however, pursued his dream of being financially successful. Newt didn't exactly cheer his friend on since he didn't want to push any expectations or stress on him. But secretly, he did hope that Minho would be successful. And when he was, they would both thrive. For now, Newt made the income which benefitted them both.

The next day's procedures were exactly the same. Except this time, he didn't get two pieces of bread from the kind owner. Instead, he got a letter. The male who had given it to him, with straight black hair and a warm smile, told him not to open it until his work was done with. And Newt promised him he would do so. He then asked for the male's name.

"Thomas," he replied with a shy smile. Newt figured Thomas already knew his name so he didn't bother to introduce himself. The two then waved each other off before Thomas closed the door.

And for the rest of the day, Newt pondered. He wondered what was in the letter. He had never received a letter before though he did often try to hold himself back from opening one of his client's. But his moral told him not to, with his hands trembling. And so, he went from door to door, trying to get rid of them as fast as he could before he gave in to his own curiosity.

At the end of the day, he once again took a visit to the pier. By evening, it was often empty for sailors were already packed up. Occasionally, some couples would stroll by, holding hands. That's what Newt liked about this spot in the city. It was peaceful. He took a seat down on a bench which faced the water. Pulling out the letter from the bag, he bit his lip before carefully tearing the seal. He pulled out the folded paper inside and read the front.

' _To: Newt,_ ' it read.

The sight of his own name made his heart jump a bit. What could this person, Thomas, have to say to him through a letter? He figured it must've just been a note of thanks for his hard work. But ideally, some sort of recommendation of promotion would be nice too.

He then unfolded the note and whispered it aloud to himself. When he reached the end of the note, his lips had parted in awe. The words put into the note must've been thought out so carefully. They flowed well together and communicated the emotion within them.

It was a love letter.

Newt's heart pounded heavily in his chest, he felt a rush of nervousness crash through him. He never figured that one of his client's could fall for him. The thought of someone else loving him never crossed his mind. After all, it must've been impossible. There was nothing special about him. He had a low income and could barely keep himself together.

His mind went through all of the memorable moments he had with Thomas. It used to be his mother who opened the door and took the letter but after a few times, Thomas took her place. He greeted Newt everyday with a smile on his face. And recently, it was Thomas who snuck him a piece of bread from time to time, telling him that carbs would keep him full for a while on the job. The two had a full-on conversation before but it was the little things, that made him stand out the most out of his clients. Thomas probably thought that he was a nobody since Newt saw multiple faces everyday. But that wasn't the case.

The letter slipped from his fingers. He had been too lost in thought! Newt shot out of the bench and ran after the letter as it was carried in the wind, making multiple loops in the air. He reached out, swiping at the emptiness, missing it. He followed it to another bench where it got caught into between a crevice of the lived up wood planks. With a sigh of relief, he snatched it.

But something caught his eye, something golden. A shimmering, gold pocket-watch sat on the same bench. Someone must've left it behind. Curiously, Newt picked it up and examined it. It was a bit scratched up but overall was still in working condition. He watched as the hand which indicated the seconds as it ticked around in a full circle to signify a minute had passed. The numerals made the watch look fancy. But it was really the mini clockworks happening in the middle of the watch that made it appear luxurious.

He felt intrigued by the pocket-watch. He turned his head from side to side, wondering if someone nearby might've left it behind. But he was all alone. The sky was fading to a dim orange. Newt put his eyes back to the watch. He had a simple one on his wrist but never had he ever set his hands on an expensive one. He felt bad for the person who had left it behind.

Out of his own habit to fiddle with things, he clicked a button on the side of the watch.

And what happened next, even he couldn't comprehend fast enough. Within a mere second, everything around him spun into a blur. All water, pier, sky, and buildings had become one. He felt his feet become loose and stumbled back. But the foot he had put backwards for balance didn't touch the ground. The pocket watch blasted with light, radiating like the sun. Before shutting his eyes, he saw the clockwork spinning in all sorts of directions like a compass gone haywire.

And before he could even speak a word, a reaction. He felt himself on cushiony surface. He no longer felt the wind of the water, instead, blasting air conditioning. He no longer heard the sound of running water and honking cars, just mechanical air blowing.

Newt let out a groan as his eyes blinked to adjust to the white light surrounding him. He pushed his weight onto his arms as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. What had happened..?

"Ah! Newt!" A familiar voice said.

Once Newt adjusted his eyes, he found himself in a clinic. He was placed on a thin bed. The blasting air conditioning came from the ceiling across the room. And right before him, sitting on a stool, was Thomas.

Confusion came as a tidal wave over Newt. He then remembered the love letter. "Thomas?!"

Thomas cocked his head, "Yeah, that's me. Are you okay?"

Newt's eyes ran across the clinic. He then realized he wasn't the same clothes he had on before. Someone must've changed him into a casual t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. He wondered what was on the other side of the door. He couldn't find his bag, original clothes, the pocket-watch, or letter in the room.

"Newt? You look a bit pale," Thomas asked. He brought his face in close and pressed a hand to Newt's forehead, checking his temperature.

A bright red smear came across Newt's features. He winced and threw himself back to the wall, gasping. "Where am I?" he asked, panicked.

"In WICKED's clinic," Thomas responded. The look on his face appeared to be hurt by Newt's reaction. "You're acting weird..."

"What happened?!" Newt shouted, though he didn't mean to. He just couldn't help it. His anxieties were getting the best of him. "Where is my messenger bag?" If the person who'd found him had left it behind, then he had to retrieve it immediately. It held his house keys and wallet. He then thought of his friend. He hoped it wasn't too late, that Minho wasn't worried for him at home.

"Newt, calm down!" Thomas stood up and held his hands out in front of him. "You passed out during testing so they had to bring you here. What bag are you talking about?"

Testing? What sort of testing did he mean? It didn't add up at all. "What the hell are you talking about?! Don't throw bullshit at me!" He pressed his hands to the sides of his head, squeezing it in distress.

"Newt..."

The door flew open. To his relief, Minho ran in. "Newt! Thank god! They gave me a few minutes to check on you."

"Minho..!" Newt breathed. Boy, was he glad to see his friend. But it made no sense how Minho would know he was here... wherever he was. It made no sense how someone would be able to contact Minho. Did Thomas mention 'WICKED?' What was that? Who was the 'they' Minho had mentioned?

"Newt, I heard you yelling... Everything all good? What's up?" Minho asked. It seemed as if nothing was strange at all. 

Newt furrowed his brows, "Tell me, what happened."

"You went unconscious testing. Are you okay?"

Back at it again with this 'testing.' Newt didn't buy into it, "What are you talking about?" He recalled no testing on his job. The last thing he remembered was picking up a pocket-watch.

"I guess you wouldn't remember. You might need more rest," Minho replied. Thomas watched from the side, his face was filled with worry.

"What testing?!" Newt demanded.

Minho went silent for a moment. "Testing. Y'know, like when WICKED injects us with strange shit or makes us solve problems."

"WICKED?" What was all of this he was hearing? It was too much to handle. Too unreal. Nothing added up. He must've been in a dream. He must've been hallucinating.

Minho and Thomas shot glances at each other.

"Newt... Did you loose your memory or something?" Minho asked, his voice was uneasy.

"I don't think he had hit his head too hard..." Thomas added.

"Bloody hell?!" Newt screamed. He grabbed his head and pressed on his ears with his palms. He breathed in and out, blocking out all of the sounds around him. What was happening?! It all felt too read to be a dream. Thomas' touch had felt real. Their voices were clear and loud. He felt completely conscious. Too conscious.

He felt hands grab his shoulders. He looked up to see Minho holding him tightly. "Newt," Minho said sincerely to him, "I think you should get some more rest. You're pretty shucked up. WICKED wouldn't like that."

Newt hesitated at first, but then he nodded. "Right... I think that's what I need." He then curled up into a ball, hugging his legs and faced the blank white wall. Whatever was happening, it was too much to think about now. Maybe later, when he woke, everything would be normal. He would go to sleep in his dream, and wake up back in reality.

Behind him, he heard the click of the door closing. He closed his eyes and tried to push out his headache.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited for this story! Poor Newt's gonna be hella confused.


End file.
